September Revolution Summer’s tyrants quail in their tanning booths. King Mosquito; Herr General Barbeque; the Lords of Scorch & Thunder—all slink away as Evening’s rebels muster at the Equinox. Monarchs in panicked caravans flee south across the border into fall, … Continue reading →

12 (in a sequence of twelve) The oak has fallen into the middle of the blackberry bushes, Bearers of ripe fruit. It groans along its whole length, Maimed, its crown in disorder, its trunk Like a dead beast abandoned to … Continue reading →

11 (in a sequence of twelve) Everywhere each thing had its color. The earth Was God’s gift: a cube in the sphere Turned by angels; the garden which the gods Wished to live in. Each mouth retold This fable as … Continue reading →

10 (tenth in a sequence of twelve) A nuthatch seems to undo stitches. A year-old roebuck Snarls, corralling his does; then the herd Skirts around me by way of the spruce grove; and flees, Their hurry half-opening the green shade … Continue reading →